Ashes to Ashes
by jacktogive
Summary: Harry was blind to the dangerous fascination Tom Riddle - a mad, but genius, mass murderer - had with him. And to the deal made between Tom and Albus Dumbledore, the not so innocent director of Hogwarts Psychiatric Institution. AU TR/HP
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER ONE **OF **ASHES TO ASHES**

"SPEECH LOOKS LIKE THIS."  
>'THOUGHTS LOOK LIKE THIS.'<br>_FLASHBACKS AND DREAMS LOOK LIKE THIS**.**_

**ENJOY!**

Hogwarts was, and still is, one of the most respected and prominent psychiatric institution in all of Europe – if not the whole world – and Harry Potter, age 23, was determined to work there. This was why he was heading there this very moment to interview for a possible job opening. He had always been fascinated by the hospital, ever since he was a young boy when his late parents would take him to visit their friend – and his godfather – the legally insane Sirius Black or as the papers and the masses would like to call him, The Grim. Harry had always loved his godfather, even after he had committed crimes and deemed insane, he had always been a playful man – he just had… a severe case of split personality and the nurses at Hogwarts seemed to understand that as well. Especially the Head Nurse – Madame Pomfrey - who was a bit strict, but kind, and in her own way grandmotherly.

She had always snuck Sirius some extra cookies, Harry thought idly, as he walked up the stone path leading to the main entrance of the hospital. He wondered if she still worked there… He hadn't been to the hospital in nearly eight years, not since his godfather had suddenly died. It had been like a black veil had come sweeping Sirius away and into Death's arms, it was so sudden. Sirius had not been a sickly man – ignoring his mental health – he was a very healthy man to be honest and quite the looker according to the gossiping staff. Sirius had always been fit and muscular, even in a mental institution he had not withered away, there was nothing to have hinted of his sudden death. But the fact remained, he had died. It was as simple as that, and he wasn't coming back no matter how much Harry wanted him to.

He supposed, although it was a rather dark thing to think, he was grateful that Sirius had died so early and so suddenly. Harry knew that if Sirius had not died he would not of had devoted himself to studying, he would of not had won such a fantastic scholarship that brought him out of his abusive relative's house to an amazing private academy, nor would he have met Hermione and her dork of a boyfriend – now his best mate – Ron. After his parents had died in a car crash when he was six he had been in the care of his Aunt's family – his mother's jealous little sister – and he had suffered greatly. He remembered they had not even come to the funeral and had merely picked him up from the lawyers' office only to stuff him into a broom cupboard under the stairs when they had arrived at the house. It had been dark and cramped - nothing at all like Harry was used to – and they treated him like a slave. At first he had complained but he soon learned that it was better off to adapt to it. Better be ignored than be beaten, he had thought.

Things got better once he turned eleven. He was moved into Dudley's – his whale of a cousin – second bedroom because he was just much too big to fit in a cupboard anymore, that sounds rather horrible but Harry was happy that his Aunt and Uncle even noticed that he was getting too big for such a small space. And that wasn't all that had changed, he was also going into different schools from his cousin, who had always bullied him and had scared any friends Harry had miraculously made. Everything was looking up in Harry's opinion at that time. Although the school he would be going to was the lowest of lowest in public education, it was also the closest school to Hogwarts. This meant that Harry could easily go visit Sirius after school. He hadn't seen him since he was six – that was five years ago. The first day of school was also the first day Harry got to see Sirius after his parents had died and he had cried into his Godfathers arms. For a while Harry had lived quietly - drawing little to no attention to himself. He did minimal on his school work, visited his godfather as much as possible, and just went by. Then Sirius died just before his sixteenth birthday. He had thought that happiness must've hated him.

He devoted himself to studying, anything to forget - anything to distract himself. It paid off in the end, he had gotten a full ride scholarship to Europe's finest medical college, graduated early and had gotten to work for a little more than an year at a small – but – renowned clinic. He would have stayed there, it was a nice place to work, but Harry had always loved Hogwarts. He supposed it was somewhat of a childhood dream he had concerning Hogwarts. And that's how he found himself today, in an interview with Albus Dumbledore – the director of Hogwarts.

"Harry, my dear boy, it is good to see you again. My, how long has it been?" Albus Dumbledore was just as how he had last seen him. White haired and wrinkled, with that same long beard, and of course – he still wore the same half-moon spectacles.

Harry was sure it was a rhetorical question, but he felt the need to answer him anyway, "It's been eight years, sir."

"Eight years? Has it really been that long? My, time sure does seem to fly by these days." Harry watched him rack his fingers through his beard and idly wondered just how old Albus Dumbledore really was. "But pleasantries aside my boy, I'm happy to say that Hogwarts would be delighted to have you amongst our staff."

"Really, Sir, You mean I got the job?" Harry couldn't believe his luck, not even ten minutes into his interview and he had the job?

Dumbledore chuckled, "Yes Harry, you're hired."

* * *

><p>"<em>I'm sorry Harry, I know you start officially next week, but one of our nurses has gotten into an accident and cannot work it seems. You are the only one qualified to do his work though, I am afraid. Could you come to work today? " <em>

That was what Dumbledore had told him, so he had thought it was some kind of top level… well… nursing thing… not to play maid and bring some patient in an isolated cell dinner! Well maybe, he shouldn't be taking this too lightly.

'I mean, the patient is in an isolated cell for a reason. Someone with a degree in nursing and psychiatry would be perfect to take care of said patient. But still! I can't believe I'm playing maid of all things at my dream job.'

Harry knew he must've been pouting, but he could care less, it wasn't like there was anyone up at this level to see him pouting anyways. Ah, but it wasn't good to face a patient with a pout, especially if that patient was in isolation. There must've been a good reason for one to be put in such a place after all.

'Not like Dumbledore would tell me much about him in the first place besides his name and to be weary of him.'

"_The patient I want you to tend to is Tom Riddle. He's currently in an isolated cell on floor six. I must warn you, he is a dangerous fellow. Be wary of him. I only want you to tend to him temporarily. I'm currently looking into finding a permanent replacement as we speak."_

The elevator chimed and opened, telling him that he had arrived at the sixth floor, he walked out slowly – rolling the cart of food along with him. Whoever this Tom Riddle was he sure did get nice food, it was better than Harry's own dinner even, but then again, he supposed Hogwarts had always served great food – he remembered his lunches with Sirius – yup, they had always served the best.

'Ah here we are… Now, let's see… Dumbledore said that I need to merely swipe my keycard here,' he swiped the card on the small machine connected to the door, 'and punch in this key sequence… 0…0…0…1…2…0…0…'

The door swung open, revealing a man in a white security uniform, he merely nodded at him before once again staring silently at the wall in front of him. Harry raised an eyebrow but said nothing and made his way to room sixty-two where Tom Riddle would be.

The door was plain… and white… just like the rest of floor six was. It was vastly different from the rest of Hogwarts, which was rich in color. It had once been a castle, Hogwarts that is, before it was turned into a psychiatric institution.

Sixty-two it read, in big bold black letters. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding before knocking gently and keying in to the door.

'Mister Tom Riddle, according to Dumbledore, you are very dangerous and I need to be weary of you. I wonder, are you muscular or something…?'

* * *

><p>Tom Riddle wasn't what Harry had expected. Call him cliché but he had envisioned him to be rugged… hostel looking… maybe some chap that had visible muscles at least. Or at least someone in a strait jacket! That's what patients put into isolated cells usually wore… But the Tom Riddle in front of him was clean cut, had a pleasant smile on his face, looked anything but hostel, and no matter how he looked at him he was a lithe teenage boy! He wasn't even in a strait jacket, he had obviously been reading before Harry had come in if the book in his hand was anything to go by.<p>

"Good evening," Riddle murmured, "Is Dumbledore sending in teens to look after me now?" There was no malice in his voice, just faint amusement, as if he could really see Dumbledore sending in teens to him. What made it kind of worse was that Harry could also see Dumbledore doing just that type of thing as well. Dumbledore could be a bit unorthodox at times.

"I assure you, although I look like this, I am twenty-three. You look fairly young yourself, how old are you?"

"I'm eighteen, but you should've already known this, I presume you've read the file on me?" At Harry's wavering look, the boy smirked ever so slightly, "No? Well, did Dumbledore finally loose his marbles? Not is he only sending in teens-"

"I'm twenty-three!"

"- but someone that isn't even properly briefed on my yet."

Was it just him or did Riddle's eyes just flash red?

'Idiot, there's no way someone's eyes would flash red…' Harry chided himself, 'but still, I could've sworn his eyes went red for a second there…'

Riddle quirked an eyebrow at him, as if he knew just what was running through Harry's mind, he looked like he wanted to say something – but stopped himself and merely hummed. He walked over to the table at the side of the room and laid his book down, "Will you be joining me for dinner?"

Harry could feel both of his eyebrows rising - he couldn't tell if Riddle was being polite or if he actually meant that. "No, sorry, I'm just here to-"

"-deliver the food and not socialize with Mister Riddle," Harry jumped in the air about a mile as he heard the voice through the intercom.

"Pity," Riddle said shrugging, seemingly not fazed at all, "I do enjoy having company from time to time."

"If you are done, Mister Potter, Director Dumbledore is calling for you," once again the voice from the intercom said.

"Then you must hurry then, Mister Potter," Harry did not like the way Riddle said his name, it sent weird tingling shivers up his spine, "Director-" This time Harry could clearly see the red shinning in Riddle's eyes "-Dumbledore," he all but hissed, "is calling for you." Riddle wasn't looking at him, but past him - it seemed - at the door behind him.

Harry nodded, "Have a pleasant meal then." He turned and noticed the lighted red sign that read exit above the door, 'of course, it had been a reflection from the sign. There's no way a person's eyes can change colors like that, how thickheaded of me.'

Yet he couldn't help but think that Tom Riddle would've looked quite fetching even with glowing red eyes.

* * *

><p>Tom Riddle hummed, "Tell Dumbledore I wish to speak to him. Tell him I want to talk to him about this Mister Potter," if someone were to see him now they would think he'd been talking to himself but he knew better. He knew this room was wired and taped.<p>

* * *

><p>AN: So... like it? Hate it?


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO **OF **ASHES TO ASHES**

"SPEECH LOOKS LIKE THIS."  
>'THOUGHTS LOOK LIKE THIS.'<br>_FLASHBACKS AND DREAMS LOOK LIKE THIS._

**THANK YOU TO THOSE THAT TOOK THE TIME TO REVIEW/FAVED/ALERTED! **  
>YOU'RE MUCH APPRECIATED.<p>

CHEERS!

Tom Riddle wanted to break Harry Potter. He had wanted to as soon as he had seen those vibrant green eyes snap onto his face. Harry Potter's lips had parted creating an almost o-like shape, and Tom hadn't missed the sudden widening of his almond shaped eyes as his pupils dilated.

'From surprise,' Tom had mused, "or maybe attraction?'

But it wasn't from those actions that had caused Tom to take interest. No, it had been the defiance – and power – in those green eyes that had caught his attention. It had given him a thrill when the boy, no man, had snapped at him telling him ruggedly that he was in fact twenty-three and not a teenager. Although it was hard to believe that such a short man - Tom would guess that he was maybe 5'2 at most and practically a midget if compared to Tom's own height of 6'4 - with a baby face like that was already twenty-three, but he guessed, some people where just blessed – or would it be a curse – with youthful looks.

Tom was amused when he had found out the man hadn't read his files. He had gotten those before, one of those let's start off with a fresh clean plate type of psychiatrists, they never lasted long. They were like sheep being put inside a wolf's den, just waiting to be eaten, and Tom had to admit he had been slightly put off when he had thought that his new green eyed toy was one of them – a weak little sheep. He had wanted to ask the man exactly that, if he wanted to start off on a clean plate, but he had held back and merely hummed.

He observed the man as he left his book on his table, 'He's nervous and scared. He's balling up his fist, and he looks as if he's about to run.'

'Scared,' he had wanted to ask, 'Am I making you nervous?' Was another, but he held himself back, it wouldn't be right to frighten off his prey now would it? So he had settled with asking if he would be joining him for dinner, although he already knew the answer to that – there was only one set of food after all. When the intercom had gone off the man had jumped impossibly high into the air, 'An athlete perhaps?' The thought ran through his head.

'He's beautiful,' Tom had thought as he calmly observed the slightly flushed face, once the man had calmed somewhat. He wanted to play with him and see what other expressions he could make, but after hearing the intercom, he had deducted that there was a high possibility that this Mister Potter would not be returning to him. Tom couldn't have that. No, he was much too interested in those green eyes to just let him go. He would talk to Dumbledore and have it his way.

* * *

><p>"<em>I'm sorry Tom, but I'm afraid Harry is the one person I cannot allow you to toy with."<em>

Tom had played that over and over in his head. Why? Why was Harry Potter so special to Dumbledore that he couldn't possibly hand him over? But no matter, he had got him to give in at the end, even though it was a compromise.

"_And why is that Dumbledore? Harry Potter is the first person I am showing any form of remote interest in here. Shouldn't you be drooling at this prospect?" _

"_If I was a heartless man."_

"_Are you saying you're not? If I seem to remember correctly-"_

"_That is in the past Tom!" _

"_Hmm… So you say. But the past never really does leave us, does it?"_

_Albus Dumbledore sighed, his old age suddenly showing, "Tell you what Tom, I'll make you a deal…"_

* * *

><p>"You wanted to talk to me, Sir?"<p>

"Ah, yes, Harry, my dear boy, do sit. I have something of the utmost importance to discuss with you."

"What is it, Sir? I'm not in trouble am I?" Harry finished, he was nervous to be honest, he had thought maybe he would be fired – he was rather young after all – he still couldn't believe he had somehow gotten a job at Hogwarts of all places.

"No, No, my boy, on the contrary, I'm giving you a raise," Dumbledore said, starching his chin in an absent minded manner.

"A raise…?" This was the last thing Harry had thought Dumbledore would be talking to him about. He had only started working here last night. It hadn't even been a full twenty-four hours yet!

"Yes, yes, a raise, but only if you agree to take on this extra job I have for you," at Harry's questioning look he continued, "I want you to be Tom Riddle's psychiatrist from now on." Dumbledore held up both his hands as to stop Harry's outburst from manifesting, "I know I told you that I only wanted you to care for him temporarily, but I have done a lot of thinking and I find you are the most suitable for this job."

"I think Tom needs someone close to his age. Someone he can connect with and perhaps trust enough to become friends with."

"Now I understand if you don't want to do this, and I won't hold it against you. To be quite honest, I hope you reject my offer."

"Sorry to disappoint Sir, but I'll do it." Harry couldn't stop the smile stretching across his face nor the determination that lit up his eyes, "You know how much I enjoy a challenge."

Was this why Tom had been so interested in Harry? Could he have, in that short amount of time, seen Harry's determination and stubbornness shine through? Dumbledore wouldn't doubt a genius like Tom Riddle to be able to. He wondered was he not just throwing Harry to the wolf. No, he had trust in Harry, he truly did.

"You are the only one Harry, the only one that I have fate in to work out the mind of Tom Riddle."

* * *

><p>Harry didn't know if he should be appalled or impressed.<p>

'A bit of both really,' he thought as he read the summery on Riddle's file, 'this Tom Riddle truly is something isn't he?'

"Full name, Tom Marvolo Riddle," Harry read. "Orphan… Parents unknown… manipulated four people to commit suicide at the age of 11… was admitted into Hogwarts shortly after where he manipulated three more others in his therapy group to strangle themselves to death and one to violently hurt himself in a span of three years… no particular pattern, no preference to gender or age, victims had no particular ties to him…When asked why, Riddle had merely replied that he had been bored. He was then moved to isolation where he continues to…"

Harry gulped, more out of anxiety than fear.

"… seemingly without anyone's notice, make his psychiatrists disappear one by one."

Harry ran his hand through his hair, a nervous habit he had picked up from school, he was excited. He could feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins.

'If Hermione was with me now, she would say something like my hero senses where tingling,' he mused to himself. She had once told him that watching him work with a patient was like seeing him rescue someone, and he supposed that held some truth, as he did see this as saving someone- even if it was from their own mind.

'Although,' Harry thought, 'I had never worked with someone quite like Tom Riddle before. I wonder if I could do it.'

* * *

><p>"Hello again, Mister Potter," Tom Riddle really did have a pleasant voice Harry couldn't help but to think. "Are you always going to not say anything when you come in?" Amusement laced his voice, "You haven't once said hello to me, won't you greet me Mister Potter."<p>

"No! I will not!" Harry really wished Riddle would stop saying his name that way, it sounded way too affectionate.

Tom chuckled, "No you will not? You won't greet me? Or you won't say anything to me?"

Why did Harry suddenly feel like a child? "Hello Mister Riddle, how are you today? And no, I will not always be mute when I come in… I was just momentarily speechless is all," Harry said, trying to look anywhere but at Riddle.

"Sorry, it's my fault. I'm not decent at the moment am I? But you did come in rather quickly after you knocked, I didn't have time to put on a shirt," he teased, voice slightly muffled as he put his white hospital standard shirt over his head. "There, all decent."

"Were you working out?" Harry asked, noticing the weights on the floor.

"Yes, I was. I can't let my body go to waste now can I?" Never once did his eyes seem to leave Harry's.

"I've brought you dinner," Harry said lamely, handing Tom the plate of food.

"So I've noticed," he replied with a sarcastic smile on his face, taking the offered plate and setting it down on the table at the side of his room.

"You never answered my question," Harry said, following with Tom's glass of water, "How was your day?"

"Do you really want to know?" Tom asked, mid-way through a bite, "Well I suppose, you being my psychiatrist now, makes it your job to ask, hmm?" He pointed his fork at Harry, "Surprised? Well if you weren't my psychiatrist now, I doubt the people-" He waved his fork around above him, "-upstairs would've allowed you to stay this long and make conversation with me."

Harry raised his eyebrows as if to say, "Oh really?"

"I'm not daft Mister Potter, I can piece things together."

Harry smiled his eyes twinkling in silent mirth, "No, you're not daft for certain. But really, I'm rather curious, how was your day? Did you do anything?"

Tom seemed to mule over his question as he slowly took a sip of water, "Instead of asking me such mundane questions, shouldn't you be asking me what I've done to my last psychiatrist? Or rather – why have I done it?" Tom stared at him point blank. It was the first time Harry noticed just how cold his eyes really seemed to be. They were hazel, a color usually associated with warmth, but on Tom Riddle they were cold as ice. He was smiling, ever so pleasantly, but his eyes were frosted over and calculating.

"Well…?"

"You'll soon find out that I am not like most psychiatrists, and I don't interrogate the people I work with – you're not a prisoner – why should I?"

"Not a lot of people would agree with what you said."

"Well, it's a good thing I don't really care what other people think now isn't it Mister Riddle?"

"Tom," he casually said, as if commenting on the weather, "I'd rather you call me Tom."

"Then please call me Harry from now on."

* * *

><p>Harry rested against the door as soon as he got out of Riddle's room, his heart pounding loudly in his chest. Riddle's eyes had practically been shinning at the end. He couldn't place exactly what emotion was in those hazel eyes, but it definitely wasn't that ice coldness Harry had seen earlier.<p>

'Maybe,' Harry thought heading to the elevator, 'I can crack the notorious Tom Riddle faster than I thought.'

* * *

><p>When Harry left, Tom couldn't help the pleased smirk that stretched across his face. It had felt like a silent challenge had gone up between him and Harry.<p>

'And his eyes,' Tom thought, as he remembered the way those green eyes flared with life. 'I'll be the one to break him.'

* * *

><p>AN: I would like to say that Tom and Harry are **NOT** attracted to each other in a sexual way, _yet_.  
>Well, they are, but they don't know it <em>yet<em>. Tom sees Harry as some kind of toy, pet, he hasn't – _yet_ – thought of doing anything sexual to Harry… _YET_! And Harry sees Tom as someone he needs to save.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE** OF **ASHES TO ASHES**

"SPEECH LOOKS LIKE THIS."  
>'THOUGHTS LOOK LIKE THIS.'<br>_FLASHBACKS AND DREAMS LOOK LIKE THIS._

**CHEERS! FOR ALL THE NEW REVIEWS/ALERTS/FAVS I GOT!**

NOW ON WITH THE STORY!

"You're here rather early today," Tom commented from his bed, the almost always present book in his hand, "I was expecting you around dinner time."

"Dumbledore thought it necessary to change my schedule around so that I could have more time with you. I'll be here from one to five from now on. You'll be seeing a lot more of me now, better get used to it." Harry laughed, a sheepish smile spreading across his face.

"I was the one that requested you in the first place," Tom commented dryly with a shrug of his shoulders.

A mixed look appeared on Harry's face – somewhere between amusement and shock, "You requested me? When did you do that?"

"The day after we first met…," Tom replied nonchalantly, picking off nonexistent lint from his shirt sleeve. He looked up into Harry's eyes, who had walked up closer to him, "… during my therapy session with Dumbledore. Which I suppose you'll be taking over now - since you are here rather than him."

'And I'm glad it's you and not him.' Tom almost said aloud, but his peeved smile seemed to have done the talking for him.

"You don't like him very much do you?"

Tom smirked, amusement lacing his voice, though his eyes were guarded. "Is it that obvious?"

'No, but you hissing his name was a dead giveaway,' Harry mused, thinking back to when they had first met and Tom had all but hissed out the director's name. He grabbed the chair that was at the table and set it next to Tom's bed so he could sit while talking to Tom.

"Why don't you tell me why you dislike him so much? Because you're right I am here to take over the therapy sessions."

"Would you rather like to do the talking in the actual room meant for such purposes?" Tom asked, motioning toward a door on his left, "It's an office of sorts."

'And it isn't bugged,' he silently added to himself.

"You have a separate room for therapy?" Harry asked in genuine surprise as they moved into the next room. It was a simple room really, again following the Sixth Floor's theme - the walls and floor were a stark white. It had a plush, black, chaise – for Tom to recline in – and across there was a comfy looking armchair for Harry – also black in color. There were no tables, or any other furniture, except for book shelves – which lined the north wall – filled with books.

"Dumbledore didn't tell you?" Tom spoke up lightly from his place in the chaise once they had both gotten comfortable, "He doesn't tell you much, does he?"

Harry frowned, "Why do you dislike him so? Did something happen?"

"Why don't you tell me about yourself first? I don't feel like talking about my feelings," Tom paused to lightly smirk at Harry, "to someone I don't know much about."

"I'm Harry Potter," Harry said, scratching the back of his head and not noticing how Tom had successfully evaded his question.

"I know that much," Tom interrupted dryly.

"I'm twenty-three years old."

Tom said nothing, but merely raised an eyebrow, a half-smile quirking his lips as he looked at the ceiling above him.

"My birthday is on July thirty-first. I-"

"Well then," Tom said, turning slightly on his side to face Harry, "Happy Birthday Harry."

"Tha- Wait, what? I'm sorry?"

"July thirty-first is your birthday is it not? Well today is July thirty-first," he laughed at Harry's gob smacked expression, "You forgot your own birthday?"

"Well I… I guess I did. I've never gotten used to celebrating my birthday. I was orphaned when I was young you see, and… the people that took care of me after that never really bothered to celebrate it," Harry mumbled, almost as if he were talking to himself.

"You're an orphan, Harry?" Something seemed to dance in Tom's hazel eyes as he said this. An emotion Harry couldn't place – yet again – like that time he had told him to call him Tom. His eyes held an almost possessive gleam, glazed over with the ever present calculating coldness in his eyes. All Harry could do was nod numbly in answer.

"I'm an orphan too, did you know?" Tom hummed, as he recalled details from his childhood, "Wool's Orphanage. That's where I grew up. Dreadful place it was. They never celebrated birthdays there too. Except once – it was the only and last time a birthday was celebrated there, I think."

Tom rolled over so he was facing the ceiling again, his legs crossed automatically and he put his hands behind his head, he looked completely at ease. "It was Billy Stubbs' birthday, and the newly hired help – Martha – had thought it appropriate to celebrate. She got him a pet rabbit." Tom paused here and looked at Harry. He seemed okay with whatever he saw as he continued on, "But the next day, he and Eric Whalley came down with the chicken pox. And Billy, who had always had a crush on little Amy Benson, gave the rabbit to her temporarily. It made her quite ecstatic. She wouldn't shut up the whole day, gushing about how nice and kind," Tom sneered, "Billy Stubbs was and Dennis Bishop – that little git – was being more annoying than usual, all because he was jealous. Then I told him, why don't you hang the rabbit? Billy would be mad at Amy and we all know she'll come crying to you. Why not kill two birds with one stone? He looked at me like I was crazy and walked away."

He smiled slightly and touched his lips lightly as if he was savoring a delightful little memory, "An hour later Billy Stubbs found his pet rabbit hanging from the rafters." His smile stretched further across his face till it was a leer, "It caused quite the commotion."

"But," Tom said, his smile dropping in an instant, "They all blamed me," he told Harry in a flat voice, "Billy Stubbs was certain I was the one that had hung his rabbit. As if I'd dirty my hands. And all the children pointed fingers at me, calling me a freak. Although, Dennis Bishop was looking at me with a rather guilty expression, of course, I'd get back at him for blaming me when it was quite obviously him that had done it."

Tom once again stopped and looked at Harry, "Were you ever bullied, Harry?"

He asked him in such a soft tone that Harry had been taken aback and couldn't stop himself from replying to him, "Yes, I was."

Tom smiled at him like a parent congratulating their child for a job well done, "We are quite similar, you and I, don't you think?"

"What happened to Dennis Bishop after that?" Harry asked pointy, ignoring Tom's question – because Harry didn't like the way it sounded so true to his ears. They were quite similar, orphans, bullied, blamed for things they haven't done.

Tom stared into his eyes, and he felt naked and bare, as if Tom knew he was pointy ignoring his question. But he didn't comment on it, and merely answered Harry, "He hung himself."

"Then shortly after, Amy Benson threw herself off the stairs."

"Billy Stubbs stabbed Marta and then Eric Whalley, who had seen him stab Marta, to death, and then committed suicide by throwing himself out the third floor window."

Dead silence filled the room.

"I told Dennis Bishop that he would go to hell if he did not repent. How could he kill an innocent animal for selfish reasons? Just so he could hold Amy Benson in his arms. And she didn't even come into his arms - she had locked herself in her room because she was traumatized and sorry that the rabbit had died. I'm not the freak, I told him, you are. You're a horrible person. You should go hang yourself. "

Tom Riddle really was something, Harry thought. He was reliving his crime at the moment – by now if he were a regular patient - he would be showing signs of euphoria, wide eyes, uncontrolled hand movements, fast speech – yet he wasn't. He was cool and calm, even his eyes were cold, distant, calculating, but most of all he was aware. He wasn't lost in his mind at all.

"And he did of course - after I had toyed with his mind a bit more that is. I told him you should hang yourself in front of Amy Benson's door – as a gesture of apology. And he did, and little Amy Benson walked out of her room to see his dead mangled body hung right outside her door. She couldn't even scream," Tom continued, "She was already broken. She wasn't even that much fun to get rid of. I just had to tell her that it was all her fault that Dennis Bishop hung himself outside her door and she just flung herself down the stairs to land right in front of Billy Stubbs."

"It was like they were just lining themselves up one by one. He saw me coming down the stairs, why he asked me. Why? Why? Why? He obviously thought I had pushed her down the stairs - which I had not. So I, being ever so helpful, told him why indeed Amy Benson had come tumbling down the stairs to her untimely death."

"She threw herself down the stairs, I told him, she was so depressed at the thought of not being able to take care of your rabbit, and you know, seeing it dead - hanging on the rafters."

"It's your entire fault, he had cried dramatically at me. No it isn't I replied. If Marta hadn't gotten you the rabbit none of this would've happened. Yes, if Marta wasn't here I suppose Amy Benson wouldn't have died. And then, well, I told you what happened."

By then Harry had moved to where Tom was, he thought he should be disgusted or slightly appalled by the way Tom said all this with no guilt – no remorse -, but all Harry could do was feel pity. Without even himself noticing he found himself crouched over the chaise to lightly sweep Tom's hair from his eyes. "Are you sad at all about the things you've done?"

"No," Tom replied, staring directly into his eyes, "I'm not. Are you disgusted?"

"Surprisingly, I'm not," Harry replied softly, "But you know, I was told four people committed suicide."

Tom smirked, "Because that's what I told them. They couldn't get me to talk, there was no evidence since I really didn't kill them myself so they locked me up here," he put his fingers up in the air and made quotation signs, "incase I was traumatized."

"But," he sighed, "I got bored, and ended up playing with a few people. I don't know, maybe I'll tell you what I did to them one day. For some weird reason," Tom said slowly as he reached up for Harry's face - who was still looking down at him -, "I seem to be able to recall things a lot more vividly with you like this." Tom smiled in mirth, dragging his hand down his face, "Time seems to pass by a lot quicker too though. Isn't it time for you to leave?"

And indeed it was Harry saw, as he checked his wrist watch. It was exactly five o'clock, right on the dot.

* * *

><p>As Harry walked out of Hogwarts and to his flat, he wondered what had caused Tom Riddle to share such a story with him, especially on their first session. Was Tom Riddle merely just toying with him, like he did with all his other psychiatrists? Harry shuddered to think such a thing.<p>

But he was also confident that he wouldn't end up dead, or mad, like the others.  
>Even though, he admitted gruffly, Tom Riddle was a scary person to be up against.<p>

* * *

><p>"Surprise!" Two voices yelled at him.<p>

"What? Ron! Hermione!" Harry laughed pleasantly at seeing his two friends at his doorstep, "What are you two doing here?"

"It's your birthday Harry! Don't tell me you've forgotten your birthday again!" Hermione sighed at Harry sheepish look, "And you've probably left your cell phone at home again didn't you? I swear Harry! One day you'll get into trouble and find yourself without a cell phone!"

"I don't know how you live with her mate – with all that nagging she does." Harry said humorously.

Rom laughed, "It's gotten better, she doesn't nag at me – as much."

They both laughed at the expense of their fuming bushy haired friend.

Hermione sighed, yet again, 'Honestly,' she thought, 'I'll end up dying early with all this frustration.'

"We've come to spring you Potter, from your no doubt boring life," a new voice drawled behind Harry.

"Draco!" Harry laughed clapping the blonde boy on his shoulder, "Don't tell me you've returned from your business trip just so you could wish me a happy birthday!"

"Not just to wish you a happy birthday but to celebrate it as well. You better know how lucky you are Potter," the blonde replied snidely as he brushed his shoulders as if Harry had contaminated him.

Draco Malfoy was a boy Harry had first worked on when he was starting off as a physiatrist. They had been the same age, and their personalities had crashed greatly, but that was what got through to Malfoy in the end and he had, as the clinic concurred, been cured. They had ended up keeping in contact afterwards, and somehow ended up becoming close friends. Although, Harry thought, his other friends thought he could do without Malfoy as he was a stuck up rich boy with an ego to match. But they didn't know Draco like he did.

"We told you to wait in the car Malfoy!" Ron exclaimed, angrily.

"Malfoys do not wait, Weasel."

"Don't call him Weasel Malfoy! Act your age for once why don't-"

"Shut up, mudblood, no one asked for your opinion."

"Guys! Guys! Guys!" Harry exclaimed, getting the middle of his friends, "It's my birthday, can we leave the killing to another day? Please?"

"Whatever," Draco said, "Let's just hurry it up and go to wherever your party is being held."

"I'm getting a party?" Harry asked, suddenly chest fallen.

"Don't worry your scared forehead Potter. It's only us and a few extra Weasels."

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed all of a sudden, "I forgot to mention, Cho's going to be at your party too Harry!"

* * *

><p>"Harry! It's good to see you again!"<p>

"Cho," Harry, awkwardly hugging the Asian girl back – and ignoring Draco's nice going Potter - , replied, "Thanks for coming."

"It's nothing Harry," she giggled, handing him a gift, "Happy birthday. And Harry-" she whispered into his ear, "-can I talk to you later? In private?"

"Y-yeah," he stammered, "sure, once I've greeted everyone I'll come find you okay?"

"I'll be waiting," Cho replied flirtatiously.

* * *

><p>"Sorry, did you wait long?" Harry asked as he took a seat next to Cho, who had long since been his crush. He had heard that she had recently broken up with her longtime boyfriend, Cedric Diggory, but he hadn't expected his friends to act so fast.<p>

"No," she giggled, "I didn't"

'Had she always giggled so much?' Harry thought, a tad bit annoyed at all her giggling, 'Maybe I've been spending too much time with Tom as my only source of company for the last few days. He's never giggled, or made such an annoying sound before.'

"Are you okay Harry?" Cho asked, frowning.

'What's up with everyone asking me if I'm okay?'

"I'm fine," he replied with a big fake grin on his face.

"You know Harry, I broke up with Cedric a few days ago…" Cho started timidly, inching closer to Harry.

"Mm." Harry answered, not really paying any attention to the girl.

"I," Cho said coyly, placing her hand on his thigh "couldn't stop thinking of you. I was so happy when Hermione invited me over to your birthday party."

"Oh?" Harry replied absent minded, thoughts elsewhere that he didn't notice her crawling onto his lap until he felt her moist lips on his.

"What Cho? What are you doing?" He exclaimed, suddenly catching everyone's attention around the room, "No! This is-" He yelled, pushing the girl off him. She looked up at him from the floor, face tear stained.

"You're horrible Harry!" She sobbed running out the house.

* * *

><p>"Oi, Potter, what was that all about?" Draco asked, sitting down next to Harry on the balcony, "You had your, what, dream girl on your lap and you push her off and reject her?"<p>

Harry sighed, running his hands though his hair before groaning, "I don't know Draco, another day I'd be jumping in joy, but… I have a lot on my mind today."

"And pray tell," Draco said, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow in question, "could be taking up your scared head that you screwed up your chances – royally I might add – to ever hook up with Chang."

"I'm," Harry fumbled, glancing at Draco briefly, "As you've probably heard, I started working at Hogwarts… and the patient I'm working on is…" Harry sighed, putting his hands on his lap, "someone in isolation. But he's very different. He's not like the others. He's in control of his mind. He knows exactly what he's doing, but there's still something… something twisted about him I can't place and it's driving me up the wall trying to crack him! "

"And it emerges, the infamous Harry Potter hero complex."

"I do not have a hero complex!"

"Yes, you do, I know, from personal experience. You know crack is just another word for save. And also! You sound much too attached to the patient! Don't go getting too attached to him, Potter! He's in isolation for a reason!"

"I got attached to you didn't I?"

"My case is different. I'm not some mad loony locked up in isolation! I simply had a mild case of delirium."

"Mild case, Draco? Really?" Harry laughed, "I suppose you don't remember when they first brought you in, strapped down and in a strait jacket no less, screaming he's right there! That snake faced monster! Why can't you see him?"

"That was… that was my peak okay? You know I've gotten better. Anyway, bottom line Potter, don't get so attached to him. Promise me."

"Promise me, Harry."

Harry sighed. Draco only used his first name if it was something serious, "I promise Draco."

* * *

><p>Tom chuckled.<p>

"I'm doing it again aren't I?" Harry asked.

"Does the sight of me render you speechless?" Tom teased.

"I… just have a lot on my mind at the moment, is all."

"Oh? Care to share?"

Harry stared at Tom before sighing and scratching his head, "Yesterday was my birthday, remember?"

"Ah, yes the one you forgot."

"Hmm…" Harry confirmed, "Well my friends threw a surprise party for me… and invited this girl I had been attracted to." He glanced up briefly at Tom who had a small frown marring his face. "And during the party…she…"

"Yes, Harry? What did she do to you?" Tom pressed.

"She came onto me and I kind of – rudely – rejected her advances."

"Is that so?" Tom said lightly, he looked oddly pleased in Harry's opinion as they made their way to the other room.

"You look awfully tired today Harry." Tom Riddle commented as he reclined in the plush chaise.

"Ugh," Harry mumbled, he hadn't gotten even a wink of sleep last night, and the reason for this? Well he was reclining like royalty in front of him this very moment.

"I couldn't sleep," he finally managed, yawning widely.

"Thinking about the girl?" Tom asked, a bit of a bite in his tone.

"No. No." Harry said. 'I was thinking of you even when I'd promised Draco I wouldn't.' He sighed, 'Maybe I really do have a hero complex.'

Tom smiled, "I want to try something today," he said cheerfully, "I want you to sit on my lap."

He coughed, "You… you want me to what?" He asked with disbelief dripping off his voice.

'Must've heard him wrong, it's the lack of sleep.' Harry thought to himself shaking his head.

Tom looked at him amused from his seat, "I want you to," he said gesturing to his pelvic area, "sit on my lap." Harry raised his eyebrows in shock and disbelief. There was no doubt of what Tom had said to him, especially not when he had said it so slowly like that syllable to syllable. "Last time, when you were above me, it helped me recall everything so much more vividly."

"Then," Harry coughed, "why don't I, like last time, just stand next to you?"

"You're tired though," Tom replied as if that was the answer to everything, "come, and just sit on my lap." Tom patted his thighs, "I think, for this particular event I want to tell you, it'd work best if you were here."

"Fine…" Harry reluctantly agreed weary yet still extremely curious as to why it helped Tom Riddle think if he were on his lap of all places.

'Why do I feel like I've dug my own grave,' Harry thought as he crawled onto the younger, but taller boy's lap. Because of Tom's position and the seat itself being a chaise, Harry was forced to not just sit on Tom's lap, but to straddle it.

"You're looking extremely pleased with yourself," Harry mumbled to Tom from his lap.

Tom chuckled, a smirk forming itself on his lips, "Extremely," he replied.

"Well then," Harry said, "I'm on your…lap…" he said with difficulty, "what is this particular event you needed me on your lap to tell me about?"

"Well," Tom started, grabbing a hold onto Harry's hips, "I had this dream last night, you know?"

Harry nodded - dreams were a very important part of a person's psychology after all.

"I was fucking you, hard and rough on this very couch here," Tom told him, as if he was commenting on the weather, "and you were moaning my name as if your life depended on it."

Harry felt his mouth drop open. Too shocked to really move and not like he could move anyway, with Tom gripping onto his hips like that.

"They say if you dream about someone, they're thinking of you. Tell me Harry," Tom said, looking into his eyes, "were you thinking of me yesterday?"

* * *

><p>AN: And it starts!  
>Harry's a bit lost and well Tom's… Tom.<br>He knows he wants Harry to be broken and submissive to him and he's realized having him like that in a sexual way appeals to him a lot more than just a broken toy he can fix and break again.

But will Harry, being hot tempered as he is, allow Tom to tame him like that?  
>And don't forget Dumbledore plotting in the background!<br>Oh ho ho ho. Stay tuned!


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR** OF **ASHES TO ASHES**

"SPEECH LOOKS LIKE THIS."  
>'THOUGHTS LOOK LIKE THIS.'<p>

**Thank you thank you thank you everyone!**  
><strong>Your support keeps me going~<strong>

**Enjoy!**

Harry Potter, for the life of him, couldn't move a muscle. He was much too shocked to do so.

"You were up all night because you were thinking, and you weren't thinking of that girl. Your eyes flashed onto me when you said no, a guilty conscious perhaps? Were you ashamed to think of me all night, Harry?" Tom mused from beneath him.

Harry felt Tom's finger draw small circles on his back, "I'm not ashamed to think of you." Tom said softly, drawing Harry's hands away from where he had balled them up out of shock on his chest towards his own face. He placed a light kiss on his fingertips, "You were holding onto me so tightly-"

That seemed to have brought Harry out of whatever shock he'd been in has he roughly took back his hand from Tom's grip and tried – although unsuccessfully – to get out of Tom's lap.

"Let me down." Harry commanded, he was flushed, from anger – and he would never ever willingly admit it - from being slightly aroused and embarrassed.

"But you look so good there," Tom said, he looked completely at ease and seemed to have no problem keeping Harry in place, even when he was squirming on his lap trying to escape. "If you keep moving around I'm not responsible for how my body reacts, the dream is still quite fresh in my mind you know," Tom told him, a bit too cheerfully Harry might say.

That got Harry to stop moving. "You are insufferable," Harry gritted out.

Tom chuckled, "You told me that I was insatiable last night."

"Stop," Harry flushed, once again, this time form embarrassment more than anything – although his anger was still apparent - ,"saying it like I really said it! It's was only a dream!"

Tom got a thrill from seeing Harry like this, riddled up and angry. It made him want to tame him, to break him till there was nothing left in those green eyes but longing and dependency for him. It excited him to think of all the possibilities and ways he could break Harry Potter. First, though, he would start off by filling his mind with thoughts of himself. And it seemed, he had already taken a step forward with that.

"Sorry, I'm being rather forward aren't I?" Tom sighed slowly letting go of his grip on Harry, "It's just," he whispered, "You're the first person I've seen in nearly eight years that's even remotely close to my age."

"Oh…" Harry found himself at a loss for words and for a second he almost forgot Tom was not a normal teenage boy. He could see Tom's reasoning there because it really was true. The people that had worked with Tom had all been well over their fifties.

'Still,' Harry thought, 'doesn't give him the right to…to… practically molest me.'

"Yes, I suppose you'd get attached-"

"-I'm not attached." Tom told him flatly, his hazel eyes flashing dangerously. "I'm not attached…" Tom seemed to say to himself, "…yet." He finished in a whisper as his hands found their way back to Harry's hips. "But maybe I will be. Yes," he mused aloud, "I can certainly see myself getting…" Tom stopped to look at Harry's fiery green eyes, "…attached."

At Harry's bemused look Tom couldn't help the soft laughter that escaped him. Really, Harry was such an interesting creature. Not at all like his previous psychiatrists - who been old and easy to predict.

"Let me down," Harry mumbled out.

"Only if you answer my question honestly," Tom's grip on him tightened, "Were you thinking of me last night?" He said it in a way that made it seem as if that was the only thing Harry was supposed to be doing – thinking of Tom. As if he wasn't allowed to think of someone else.

"Don't be full of yourself," Harry said in a rush, "I wasn't-"

"Don't lie to me, Potter," Tom hissed, his eyes flashing, "I hate liars, and I can always tell when someone is lying to me."

Harry flinched, that was the first time Tom had called him like that, and Harry – although a bit peeved – admitted an angry Tom was kind of intimidating. He sighed, bunching up his messy black hair in his hand in frustration, "Ok. I was thinking of you last night." He finally managed to mumble out.

He noticed Tom's overly pleased smile on his face, "But!" he yelled at him, "I wasn't thinking about you… in… that way."

Tom hummed, pleased with Harry's answer for now, he let go of him and allowed Harry to slip off his lap and onto the floor. He got up with him and reached for a lock of hair that had fallen in front of Harry's eyes. He tucked it behind Harry's ear as he whispered to him, "But you will," Tom assured him.

He bent his head down and brushed his lips against Harry's cheek, "And I know I'll keep thinking of you." He told him playfully before jumping back to evade Harry's fist.

Tom laughed as he grabbed onto Harry's wrist to stop him from hitting him, "I don't have anything else to say today. Why don't you go early?" He suggested his voice full of mirth, "Perhaps you can go cool down with a cup of tea?"

"You are insufferable," Harry told him as he wrenched his hands from Tom's grip.

"So I've been told," Tom spoke heading over to pick a book from his vast collection, "I trust you can show yourself out?" He asked him, voice still amused, his hazel eyes glittering as he stared at Harry from across the room.

* * *

><p>Harry stomped down the hall, 'Perverted hormonal sadistic git!' he thought angrily.<p>

Harry had felt if of course, Tom's arousal, and damn him, he had gotten a bit aroused as well. And Tom had most likely felt if of course, if the sadistic glee in his hazel eyes had been anything to go by. Harry blamed his celibacy – not that he choose to be so - and inexperienced body for getting excited. He wasn't even gay for crying out loud! He was attracted to girls, and he had a crush on Cho… well… he didn't have a crush on Cho anymore but he was certain he was still interested in girls… right?

'Ah damn it!' he thought in frustration as he banged his head against the wall.

And then he just had to go and kiss him on the cheek like that.

He banged his head against the wall again.

'That did not feel nice. That did not feel nice. That did not feel nice.' He repeated in his mind.

Was this how Tom Riddle played with his psychiatrists? Make them question their sexuality? An image of Tom Riddle seducing a balding old man came into his mind. He shuddered at the thought. He hoped not. At least there wasn't anything like this ever written down on Tom Riddle's file before.

He started banging his head on the wall again out of frustration.

"Harry?" A female voice called out hesitantly, "Is that you?"

He stopped banging his head against the wall briefly to look at whoever had called his name.

"Madame Pomfrey!" He exclaimed, thoughts of Tom gone, as he looked at the aged Head Nurse, "I heard you retired a few years ago. What are you doing here?"

"I visit Dumbledore from time to time," she told him gently, "He told me he put you in charge of Tom Riddle."

Harry frowned when he heard the worry in her voice, "Is he that infamous?"

"Well, I don't know about now," she told him, leading him toward the lobby, "But they did bring him in when I was around. He was a curious little boy. For someone so young he had the eyes of a matured adult, and he seemed to never smile, never laugh, or talk more than what was necessary of him. A cold little fellow he was. With quite the sadistic streak if I recall correctly. He put quite a lot of people in my hospital bed before they put him in isolation." She finished with a sigh.

'Really?' Harry thought silently to himself as he walked with the retired nurse, 'Doesn't sound like the Tom I know at all.' The Tom Riddle he was used to was always polite, laughed, and even made the occasional joke. 'Except maybe the sadistic streak,' he corrected himself as he thought of today, his mood once again spiraling down. 'He was mercilessly enjoying my embarrassment, that git!'

He got a sudden urge to bash his head against a wall again.

* * *

><p>"I want to tell you a story Harry," Dumbledore started, "something I've never shared with anyone before."<p>

Harry nodded silently, feeling how tense the atmosphere in the office was, it was important – whatever Dumbledore wanted to tell him.

"I met Tom Riddle once before he was officially admitted to Hogwarts - a year before, to be exact."

Harry felt his eyebrows rise in shock, 'Tom Riddle had been analyzed before?'

"I had gone to the orphanage, as you know young Tom is from, on a request from the caretaker there. She thought young Tom to be mad, you see, and wanted to have him sent away."

Dumbledore let out a long sigh, "I feel that, I should have taken him then, rather than have let him stayed there. Sometimes I feel as if it is my fault they had all died."

Harry knew what he was talking about of course, the orphans that had died due to Tom Riddle's manipulations.

"But I had no idea how frightening he could be. I honestly, at that point in time, didn't find him mad at all. Maybe troubled, but not mad to be put in a mental institution." Dumbledore absent mindedly stroked his beard, "I learned three things from my visit to him that day… One he desperately wants to think of himself as special. Two, he is very independent. And three he likes to collect trinkets and trophies, as reminders of his victims and deeds he has done."

Harry nodded slowly taking it all in as their conversation died out.

"Now, is there anything you want to tell me?" Dumbledore asked, his blue eyes twinkling.

Harry froze, "No. No sir, nothing in particular." He couldn't tell Dumbledore what happened today – at least not now.

Dumbledore nodded his head, "Then that will be all, my boy. Have a pleasant day."

* * *

><p>He didn't know why he had come here at this time. It was clearly night time, the room was dimmed, and Tom lay slumbering in his bed.<p>

He closed the door behind him silently, but not silently enough, as the occupant of the room roused from his sleep.

"Harry?" Tom asked his voice husky from sleep – it sent shivers up Harry's spine, "What are you doing here?" He asked with a crooked smile as he pulled the covers off his body as Harry made his way toward him.

Harry gulped visibly, he was shirtless – to be specific, Tom was actually just clad in his boxers – and he seemed to not notice or mind at all as he sat up and reached for Harry. Harry, out of embarrassment, tried to look elsewhere and his gaze ended up on Tom's eyes. His hazel eyes were lidded and dark, making them seem more narrowed and predatory in the dim light. He felt a blush make its way up his neck, and something spiraled in his stomach. He didn't know what he was feeling – and he didn't like it.

Distracted, Harry didn't quite notice how close Tom had gotten to him, till he tugged him forward and dragged him onto the bed with him. Tom pushed Harry down so that he was laying in-between Tom's legs and arms – officially trapped. He licked his lips unconsciously as he looked at Harry laid across his bed.

Tom's warm breath fanned across Harry's face, "It's not wise to wander into a snake's pit in the night you know. You might," he nipped at Harry's jaw line, "get hurt."

He heard Tom chuckle above him, and felt him rake his hands down his chest. They slowly snaked their way under his shirt.

Harry gasped, his eyes popping open just in time to see Tom's mischievous grin as he bent his head down to take the abused nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirled around the nub as if to apologize for pinching it earlier. He pulled on it once before letting go. Then without as much as a warning he lips came crashing against Harry's.

"A-Ah," Harry moaned, as Tom bit his lip, his hands grabbing a fist full of his hair in an attempt to gather some of the control he was losing at an alarming rate.

"Just enjoy," Tom murmured, kissing his way down Harry's neck, his hands busy disrobing Harry.

"Stop it." Was that really his voice? Harry thought, he sounded so pitiful and weak, as he managed to push Tom off him temporarily. He tried to crawl away but Tom trapped him in his arms again.

Hard breathing filled his ear as Tom loomed behind him. "That wasn't very smart of you Harry," he whispered breathlessly into his ear. "Look at the position you've put us in."

"No," he whined, as he felt Tom press his erection onto his back. He felt like burying his head in the mound of pillows in front of him when his body reacted on its own and pushed his hips back. He couldn't help the moans as they bubbled out of this throat.

"Your moans are beautiful," Tom whispered into his ear as he grated his hips slowly, teasingly, "Say it Harry, call out my name." The boy teased him, rubbing his clothed erection tortuously slow against Harry's backside.

"Tom -" He moaned.

Harry woke up gasping for air with his blanket clutched tightly to his chest. It had been a dream, Harry knew, but it had felt so real. Shivers still racked his body, and his breathing came out in pants.

He winced mentally, 'What was that about? Did I really just dream about me and Tom…' He stopped his thoughts before they could go any further.

He groaned, as he palmed his erection, willing it to subside.

'I'm not even gay," he thought as he got up to take a cold shower.

* * *

><p>AN: HAH. YOU THOUGHT.  
>But no, like I'd give Harry to Tom like that.<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you so much you guys! All your reviews and alerts and favs made me super duper happy!

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER FIVE <strong>OF **ASHES TO ASHES**

"SPEECH LOOKS LIKE THIS."  
>'THOUGHTS LOOK LIKE THIS.'<br>_FLASHBACKS AND DREAMS LOOK LIKE THIS._

**Cheers!**

* * *

><p>'Act normal.' Harry repeated to himself, 'Act normal. Act normal.'<p>

He exhaled slowly. He wasn't ready for this - not really - he couldn't face Tom so quickly after his surreal dream. He didn't know how he could look at Tom in the eyes ever again without having a blush cover his entire face or speak to him properly without stuttering like an idiot.

How could he face him? When the mere thought of Tom brought out shivers and unsavory thoughts to his head?

'No, no. I can do this,' he told himself in the middle of his panic attack.

'I just have to…,' he thought as he opened up the door to Tom's room, '…act normal.'

Today, Harry wasn't greeted by Tom's usually teasing remark, in fact he wasn't greeted at all by Tom who was occupied with the book in his lap – reading and giving his attention solely to the book. Harry couldn't help the small blush that graced his usually clear face and the little knot tying itself in his stomach.

"What are you reading?" Harry managed to get out without attracting much attention to his anxiety. It was the first time Harry had actually seen Tom read a book he noticed. Tom always seemed to have a book near him - either in his hands or by his person - but Harry had not once seen him actually read one.

"A book on the world's most famous gardens," Tom murmured out, he briefly glanced up to meet Harry's curious gaze before returning to look at the book in front of him. His hazel eyes roamed the page, seemingly trying to memorize every detail. "Sorry," Tom said, still not taking his eyes off the book, "I got distracted you see. I happen to really love gardens."

"Oh," Harry said, surprise coloring his voice, "I never pegged you for the garden type. Why do you like them so?"

"They're very…" Tom started before once again looking up into Harry's eyes, "…beautiful…" He whispered a small smile touching his lips.

Harry felt the knot in his stomach tie itself tighter, for a split second there it almost seemed as if Tom was calling him beautiful.

"Would you like to see?" Tom asked Harry, patting a spot next to him on his bed. "I won't jump you, if that's what you're worried about," Tom told him in amusement when he spotted Harry's dubious look.

"I! I wasn't thinking about that!" Harry told him quickly in a pitch higher than his regular voice.

"Oh?" Told remarked, obviously not believing him.

Harry bit his lip in frustration before plopping himself down next to Tom.

Tom smirked lightly, "Embarrassed?" he teased, with no real malice behind his voice.

"No," Harry choked out, although the blush on his face told Tom otherwise.

Tom was probably thinking that Harry was embarrassed about what had gone on yesterday. But Harry wasn't really thinking about that. No, Harry was thinking about his dream, the dream that had taken place right on this very bed with the very person he was sitting next to. Thoughts of sitting on Tom's lap were the last thing on his mind when he could still clearly recall what he had done in his dream.

"This is The Garden of Cosmic Speculation in Scotland," Tom told him, showing Harry a picture on the page. It looked like, Harry though idly, a scene that belonged in Alice in Wonderland. There were no fountains, or flowers, as far as Harry could tell in the picture. It was all green landscape and silver – almost white – steel artwork. There was a silver steel, twisting, pole in the right corner of the image, and at the base was a spiral which lead on to the right until it expanded into checkered boxes across the green grass. At one point the checkers warped - seeming into a nonexistent black hole in the ground – which Harry thought, gave it that Wonderland feel.

"It's only opened one day a year to the public," Tom continued, "It's designed to provoke thought about the very nature of things. The shapes of science and nature come together in this garden." He pointed out, touching the image of the garden gently. Harry didn't miss the longing in his hazel eyes.

"You want to go outside don't you?" He asked, momentarily forgetting about his inner turmoil.

"It's been five years since I've been let out to… simply relax," Tom told him with a sad smile on his lips, suggesting as if he'd been let out, but for other purposes – not that Harry really noticed this though -, "It'd be nice to simply take a stroll out in the gardens."

"Maybe I'll spring you," Harry told him as he shifted slightly to look at Tom properly, "if you behave today." He added in jokingly.

* * *

><p>"I found out how I had ended up at the orphanage when I was five," Tom told Harry from the chaise, "I'd overheard them talking about it one night."<p>

Them - Harry assumed - being the adults, or caretakers, at the orphanage.

"Do you remember? They had whispered to each other. It was a night just like this when Tom Riddle's mother came here and gave birth to him."

"She named him before disappearing. One had interjected."

"I heard she died right outside the orphanage after that, they found her clutching onto a locket. The other whispered back."

Tom's voice was blank and emotionless - as it always was whenever he told Harry about his past. He sounded like a narrator, Harry thought as he listened to him. To him, it sounded as if Tom was reading from a book.

"I found out that it was being kept in Misses Cole's office. I wanted it," he paused here briefly before continuing, "It was rightfully mine. At that point, I guessed, I viewed that locket as a sort of last connection to my mother who left me. So I planned and took the locket from right underneath that pathetic excuse of a matron's noise." A gleam had settled in Tom's eyes, what emotion it held, Harry didn't know.

"Do you still have the locket with you?" Harry asked him when Tom said no more.

"No," Tom replied, irked, "Dumbledore has it now I imagine, along with everything else."

'Everything else?' Harry thought in curiosity, 'What else could have Dumbledore have taken?' Then Dumbledore's voice filled his head as a flash back from his last conversation with the old director ran through his head, '_He likes to collect trinkets and trophies, as reminders of his victims and deeds he has done._'

"What kind of locket was it? Did it have any pictures inside?" Harry asked Tom, trying to get him to start talking once more.

"No…" Tom's voice held amusement, "It didn't have a picture."

He nodded his head. Harry knew Tom wasn't going to elaborate anymore.

* * *

><p>"What can I do for you today Harry?" Dumbledore asked from behind his grand desk.<p>

"I wanted to know if it is possible to have Tom Riddle go out."

"Out?" Dumbledore asked in astonishment, "Whatever for?"

"Just to take a walk outside in the gardens," Harry quickly added, feeling nervous about Dumbledore's answer. He really didn't want to be shot down so quickly.

"Well," Dumbledore murmured, leaning forwards and placing his hands on the desk, "It is possible…" He said slowly. "But only for a walk in the back gardens where there will be no one. And you'll have to accompany him along with some guards. I'll arrange for it… say for tomorrow?"

"Really, sir?" Harry asked in a cheerful voice.

"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore chuckled at Harry's happy expression. "But I must admit that I am curious, why do you want to take Tom out for a stroll around the gardens?"

Harry ducked his head, suddenly flustered - he hadn't realized how… questioning his request had sounded. "He likes gardens… and I think if he sees what's outside again – for himself – he'll want to improve and make his way out perhaps."

"Ah," Dumbledore replied, "Teasing the snake with a mouse I see…"

He paused, entwining his fingers in front of him, "It's a simple, but an ingenious idea, Harry. But you must always proceed with caution when dealing with our dear Tom Riddle. He may seem exceedingly handsome and polite. However, in reality, he is cruel, sadistic, and manipulative. You must never forget Harry. Just because you do not see a side of a person, doesn't mean it doesn't exist."

"Sir," Harry replied, "With all due respect… but I think that's just another side of him as well - the cruel, sadistic, and manipulative side. I feel like he's lost, and doesn't really know who to trust, he found out his mother left him in an orphanage when he was five, and he was no doubt bullied all his childhood. I think," Harry paused, he was ranting he knew, but he felt a sort of kinship with Riddle, Harry had grown up in similar circumstances and he knew he could've had ended up like Riddle as well, "I think… he just needs someone to trust."

Dumbledore chuckled, "And this Harry, is precisely why I knew you were the one."

* * *

><p>The next day Harry could hardly contain his excitement. He had slept dreamlessly and had woken up with a clear mind. He hadn't felt this relaxed and content in a while.<p>

"Tom!" Harry yelled with a flourish as he barged into the boy's room, "Guess what?"

Tom looked up at him with a slightly shocked expression on his face. He cocked an eyebrow in question, "What?" He asked Harry in an amused tone.

"Well," Harry said, "You _did_ behave yesterday. So, I got the okay."

"The okay to go out into the gardens…?" Tom asked, his face somewhere between astonishment and disbelief.

"Yes." Harry laughed - it was great to see such an expression on Tom's face, "So come on!" He said, dragging Tom outside his room.

"Oh," Harry said, once Tom spotted the tall black man with the imposing figure, "This is Kingsley Shacklebolt. He's the guard that's going to be following us. See Dumbledore had a few conditions to let you out…" Harry trailed off sheepishly.

"I'm to follow you two, we go through the back, we have an hour, and Tom Riddle is to not – under any circumstances – interact with anyone other than myself and Mister Potter," the man spoke in a slow, deep voice.

"Far enough," Tom replied seemingly not fazed at the conditions Dumbledore had set, following after Harry.

The three of them made their way silently to the back of the floor where a locked door was. Harry quickly unlocked it with his key and they descended on the spiraling staircase, "This leads directly to the back of Hogwarts," Harry told Tom as he pushed open the door at the bottom.

It had been a while since he had been out, Tom thought as he felt the breeze.

"I know this isn't Luxembourg Garden…" Harry started once they walked into the back garden.

"No," Tom interrupted, "This is perfect." He smiled down at Harry who was about a head shorter than him, loving the way the blush colored his cheeks and the way Harry's green eyes shined with stubbornness.

Harry huffed, feeling the blush on his cheeks. He walked ahead, completely forgetting that Kingsley was trailing after them.

* * *

><p>"Do you like tulips Tom?" Harry asked curiously when he saw Tom crouched down and peering into a bed of red tulips.<p>

"I suppose," the boy murmured, "But what I really like are hidden behind here…" Tom said before pushing the tulips out of the way, a bed of white daisies peered up at them.

"Daisies?" Harry asked astonished, "Aren't they… weeds?" Harry finished at a loss. Somehow he imagined Tom to like a flower that was far grander than a mere daisy.

Tom smiled up at him, he handed him the daisy he had just plucked. "A weed is a plant growing in an inappropriate place," he explained to Harry. "Daisies sometimes grow like weeds because they can thrive in most conditions and the strangest of places. They are stubborn," Tom stated, "like you."

"Sorry to interrupt," Kingsley said coming closer to the pair much to Harry's relief and Tom's annoyance, "But it's time to start heading back."

"Well then," Harry said turning around to hide his face from Tom's ever prying eyes, "Let's head back then, shall we?" He said in a hurry.

He started walking ahead as he heard Tom sigh and shift, getting up from the ground he was crouched on before he too followed after Harry. Kingsley waited till Tom was in front of him before trailing after the silent pair once more.

"Potter!" An excited voice broke through the silence.

Harry whipped around, as did Tom and Kingsley, to the sound of the call. A blonde head appeared out of nowhere, running toward them.

"Draco," Harry whispered, shock coloring his voice, a wide smile broke across his face. He waved the daisy in his hand as a sign of greeting, "Draco!" He called louder, "What? What are you doing here?"

"Don't worry your pretty little scared head, Potter," Draco told him as soon as he was close enough to not yell, "I'm not here for treatment if that's what you're wondering." He finished walking up toward the three males.

"Who're you?" Tom hissed, placing his hands on Harry's shoulders before pulling the boy closer to his tall frame. He didn't like the way Harry was being so familiar with the blonde. He towered over Harry, staring at the blonde with cold eyes.

"This is Draco, Tom. He's a friend of mine." The answer did not seem to please Tom - Harry laughed nervously - as he felt Tom's arms snake their way across his chest for a firmer grip. He pulled him even closer. His black now pressed against Tom's frame.

"Harry…" Draco started, not liking the possessive gleam that had entered Tom's eyes. He could see the clothes that Tom wore – standard white patient clothes, with a light gray cardigan on top – he was a patient here even though he didn't look particularity like a loon. Then it all clicked, his gray eyes flashed, "Is he-"

"Mister Potter," Kingsley interrupted Draco with his smooth voice, "No interaction." He reminded him.

"Ah, yes, yes," Harry said in a distracted voice as he pried his way out of Tom's grip. "Sorry," he said, looking toward his blonde friend, purposely not saying his name. Tom didn't seem to like it when he did – why he didn't know. "I'll talk to you later okay?" He told Draco before walking off with Tom and Kingsley in tow.

* * *

><p>AN: Let me answer a question that I'm bound to get.  
>Draco is not romantically attracted to Harry. <em>At all<em>.  
>Terribly sorry for crushing your dreams. LOLL<p>

And Tom is possessive. Yes, yes he is. Because I love possessive Tom.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER SIX**OF **ASHES TO ASHES**

"SPEECH LOOKS LIKE THIS."  
>'THOUGHTS LOOK LIKE THIS.'<br>_FLASHBACKS AND DREAMS LOOK LIKE THIS._

**FINALLY! Right?**

* * *

><p>Harry buried his head into his pillow. "Why? Why? Why?" He asked himself furiously, mentally beating himself in embarrassment. He flushed, remembering what happened not too long ago.<p>

* * *

><p><em> "Why are you so angry?!" Harry asked a bit mad himself. He rubbed his wrist where Tom had dragged him forcefully by back to his room. He could already tell that they were going to bruise. He sighed when Tom gave no answer or any sign of acknowledgment to his question. "Tom…" He tried again, only to be interrupted by the teen himself.<em>

"_I find myself conflicted…" Tom started, lips pulled tight in a straight line._

_ "…With?" Harry egged on curious as to what Tom was so angry about._

_ Tom only stayed quiet, as if he was trying to think of the right words to say. Which was unusual in itself because to Harry it seemed as if Tom always knew just what to say and when to say it. _

_ "Hmmm…" Tom mused as a small smile spread across his lips. He turned fully to Harry, "…With thoughts of you." He spoke lightly as if he was commenting on the weather his anger suddenly gone. "Draco," Tom continued not giving Harry time to reply, "…he is your friend?" _

_ "Yes…" Harry replied slowly, not exactly sure why Tom was asking him such a question. "He's one of my best friends actually." _

_ "Hmm… Is that so?" Tom didn't look all too pleased with his answer. In fact, Tom looked angry once again. Not in an Uncle-Vernon-Angry-with-His-Red-Face-and-Veins-Poppoing-Out-Angry but in an I-Will-Destroy-Everything-You-Love-While-Watching-Silently type of angry. _

_And then, it all made sense to Harry._

_ "Are you… jealous?" Harry asked in a voice full of disbelief. Tom didn't answer but the slightly peeved look in the other's hazel eyes gave him all the answers he needed. "You are jealous," he said with a little more conviction._

_ "And if I am?" Tom asked him, he took a step closer to Harry. "What if I am jealous?" Tom continued taking a slow step toward the speechless adult. "What if I only want you for myself?" He asked towering over him. _

_ "I'll say that it won't happen." Harry spoke with confidence, a fire dancing in his green eyes as he stared at the teen. _

_ Tom smirked cruelly at him as if he was saying, do you want to bet on that. "You're mine, Harry." _

_ "I don't belong to anyone," Harry said firmly before exiting the room._

* * *

><p>"MRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGHHHH ," Harry screamed into his pillow. "What was I thinking?" His heart thumped loudly in his chest. "Provoking a sociopath like that! I might as well sign my own death warrant!" And also what did Tom mean by making him his? Surely Tom meant that the only friend Harry should have was Tom right? Surely the teen didn't mean that he wanted Harry as a …lover… right?<p>

'Well, there is a high possibility that Tom wants to bed you.' His mind inputted oh so thoughtfully. An image of him on top of Tom flashed in his mind.

"NO!" Harry told himself firmly, "Don't even think about that!"

"Why am I even thinking of this? I shouldn't even have such thoughts of…of… whatever this is! I AM NOT-!" Harry stopped midsentence having noticed someone at his bedroom door.

"Oh please, don't mind me. Continue having your mental break down. I assure you it's extremely amusing." Draco spoke up from the doorway.

"How do you do that?" Harry asked dumbfounded.

"Do what?"

"Make everything seem as if it's below you?"

"But everything is below me, Potter."

"Mrn," Harry grunted, "Wait. How'd you even get in?"

"I'm a Malfoy," Draco replied as if that was the answer to every question on earth.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked instead knowing he'd never get a straight answer from the blonde.

The blonde sighed, taking a seat next to Harry on the bed. "I got worried after you disappeared with that Riddle guy." Draco frowned; taking note of the blush that had spread across Harry's face at the mention of Tom Riddle. "Did something happen?" Draco asked.

"Harry," Draco said more firmly, "Did something happen?"

"What?" Harry squeaked, his voice coming out an octave higher than normal, "What makes you say that? Nothing happened!" Harry flinched, even to his ears that sounded like a flat out lie.

"Harry…" Draco scolded.

Harry slumped defeated. You knew you were in trouble when Draco Malfoy of all people scolded you. "He said… He _told_ me that…"

Draco raised an eyebrow questionably, egging Harry to continue.

Harry took a long breath before continuing. "He told me that I'm his. To quote him he said, 'You're mine, Harry.'"

The blonde was staring at him with a shocked expression. "This… This isn't good Harry. He's getting attached to you. No! He's already attached to you!" Draco gripped Harry's shoulders firmly. "Harry, listen to me, get away from Tom Riddle while you still can. Ask to be transferred to another patient."

"What? Draco…"

Draco shook his head, "You don't understand. He's dangerous. Tom Riddle is dangerous! I don't know everything, but there is something dark and twisted surrounding Tom Riddle." Draco stared long and hard at Harry. "I wasn't going to tell you this, but seeing as how things are I don't think I have a choice but to tell you… I did some snooping on Riddle. He looked familiar… and I remembered why. There was this time, long ago, when I was kid… he came to our house. I saw him with father. But Harry the thing is he looked exactly the same as he does now, he hasn't aged. Harry, my father… back then… he called him… he called Riddle, 'My Lord.'"

"What?" Harry asked confusion showing clearly on his face. He cringed slightly, wondering if Draco's dementia was making a reappearance.

Draco must've noticed Harry's train of thought for he glared at the brunette harshly. "Look, I know it might be hard for you to believe but… I'm telling you Riddle… I don't think he's entirely human." At Harry's raised eyebrow he continued, "The Malfoy family has been around for generations. With that being said we also have quite the number of secrets…"

"Harry, what I'm about to tell you… You cannot tell anyone else. You must take it to your grave. Do you understand me? This is how dangerous Riddle is." Draco paused, waiting for Harry's reply.

At Harry's hesitant nod he continued, "The Malfoy family and a few other families are part of a secret society called the True Bloods."

"Long ago this society was headed by four main families. They were the Slytherins, the Gryffindor's, the Ravenclaws, and the Hufflepuffs. Over time these families died out except for one, the Slytherin family. I know for a fact that Tom Riddle is the last heir to the Slytherin line and therefore by law the head of the True Blood society – our Lord."

"The True Blood society isn't a… kind… order. We treasure pure blood above all and," here Draco cringed, "try to purge the world of dirty blood."

"That's insane," Harry blurted out unable to stop himself.

Draco nodded, "Tell me about it. Thankfully, the order had stopped almost all activities in these last few years. I haven't heard father talk about it for years… but a few days ago he brought me into his office and told me to get ready."

Harry gulped, feeling the dread crawl up his spine. "Get ready for what?" He was almost too nervous to ask his blonde friend.

Draco stayed quiet for what seemed like hours before speaking slowly, "The resurrection of our Lord."

* * *

><p>Harry eyed Tom warily. After what Draco had told him somehow he felt nervous around the teen, that is if he really was a teen. It was funny in itself because Harry didn't believe in the supernatural or anything of that nature and yet here he was suspecting Tom of being something other than human. It was ridiculous! He believed in science and fact – as was what his uncle had beaten into him at a young age. There was no funny business at the Dursley residence.<p>

Tom threw him a smirk. "Is something the matter Harry? You're staring quite intensely at me - as if you expect me to jump you at any second." Harry blush scarlet. Supernatural or not Tom was still devilishly handsome.

"Do you know anything about the Slytherin family?" Harry blurted out before he could stop himself. 'STUPID!' Harry screamed into his mind as soon as he saw Tom's face go stiff.

"What?" The teen asked, a coldness seeping into his voice. Tom's eyes seemed to flash red for a second.

'There's no way his eyes turned red. No way. No way. It's just a trick of the light,' Harry told himself. But he couldn't throw the nagging feeling off. 'Now that I notice his eyes have been flashing red a lot more nowadays…' He trailed off, once again trying to shrug it off as a trick of the light.

When Harry looked at the teen again he saw that the frown was replaced with a sinister looking smirk, "The Slytherin family…" Tom seemed to muse something in his head for a second before continuing, "I'm related to them. That is to say I am the last remaining heir to the Slytherin line."

Harry stared shell shocked at Tom.

"But tell me Harry," Tom spoke softly, an overly angelic smile gracing his face, "Whoever told you about the Slytherin family?"

"I just… came across it while reading the other day…" Harry mumbled out. Tom smiled, his face clearly showing that he didn't believe a word Harry was saying.

"Well… I suppose I'd rather have you know than be in the dark about my lineage," Tom spoke lightly, the same overly angelic smile gracing his lips. He reached out for Harry, softly brushing his cheek in an affectionate gesture.

"Tom?" Harry asked confused.

"Relax," Tom murmured, leaning in closer.

* * *

><p>AN: Firstly, I know this update is long overdue… and I must thank everyone who has put up with the wait. All your reviews and pms about wanting me to continue writing has really been the sole reason as to why I've put my shit together to come up with more. So honestly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Secondly, this chapter had some heavy information for you all to take in(oh the plot thickens!) so if you are confused I will try my hardest to unconfuse(lol) you in the later chapters. So be patient! Yes, I've decided to make this a semi-magical au.

I was going to write more for this chapter but I knew I wouldn't have time to do so until next Wednesday… so I thought you'd appreciate an update now(even though it's short) than later. Cheers!


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SEVEN **OF **ASHES TO ASHES**

"SPEECH LOOKS LIKE THIS."  
>'THOUGHTS LOOK LIKE THIS.'<br>_FLASHBACKS AND DREAMS LOOK LIKE THIS_

* * *

><p><strong>PREVIOUSLY ON ASHES TO ASHES<strong>

_"Well… I suppose I'd rather have you know than be in the dark about my lineage," Tom spoke lightly, the same overly angelic smile gracing his lips. He reached out for Harry, softly brushing his cheek in an affectionate gesture._

_"Tom?" Harry asked confused._

_"Relax," Tom murmured, leaning in closer._

* * *

><p>Harry instinctively closed his eyes tightly, not daring to peek in fear of embarrassing himself. He knew what Tom was going to do, he wasn't daft. But at the same time he couldn't help but to think why Tom would do <em>that<em>. Maybe Tom wasn't going to do _that _and he was just jumping to conclusions. He felt Tom draw closer ever so slowly. He gulped, feeling hyper sensitive to everything Tom was doing. He stayed completely still until he felt the telltale brush of lips against his. He drew in a quick breath, eyes popping open in surprise as his hands reached out for Tom. He ended up fisting the boy's shirt in his hands as he pulled him closer. He could feel Tom smiling against his lips, and although embarrassed beyond belief Harry couldn't bring himself to care. The kiss was sweet and slow but in no way lacking in passion. He grinned stupidly when they broke apart, his hands still holding onto Tom's shirt.

"Um… wow." Harry said lamely, "What brought that on?"

Tom chuckled, tucking a lock of hair that had fallen into Harry's eyes, "To celebrate."

"Celebrate what?" Harry asked breaking away from Tom once he broke out of his dazed state, although the blush never left his face.

Tom merely smiled at him and Harry knew he'd never get a straight answer from the boy. Unexpectedly Harry yawned suddenly feeling sleepy.

"Tired?" Tom asked, already leading Harry toward the bed, "Here, rest." Tom said as he pushed him onto the bed before quickly climbing in himself. Harry stared owlishly at the teen. Tom smirked, "Don't worry, I won't _do_ anything to you…" He trailed off as if to imply that he would be doing _something_ to Harry in the near future though. Tom laughed at Harry's expression. "Sleep," Tom commanded as he pulled a book out. "Don't worry," Tom pressed and Harry, as if put under a spell, fell asleep promptly.

* * *

><p>"Mmm…" Harry woke slowly, feeling a hand run through his hair repeatedly. Then as if sensing him awake, the hand stopped and merely sat atop his head. "Feels good," Harry managed to mumble out as he pressed his head to the hand hoping that it would continue playing with his hair.<p>

Tom chuckled as he pulled on a lock of Harry's hair lightly. "It feels good does it?" he said jokingly.

Harry froze in shock, he had forgotten all about Tom! 'I'm not in my room!' Harry groaned in embarrassment.

Tom smiled, although Harry couldn't see, as he twirled a lock of Harry's hair. He continued reading his book and they settled into a comfortable silence. Harry managed to relax once again as Tom started to run his hand through his hair. Curious Harry tuned slightly to see what Tom was doing. He was reading a book as he rested against the headboard.

"What're you reading?" Harry mumbled, still a bit groggy – Tom's hand wasn't helping him wake up either.

"About the past," Tom replied with a smile as he closed the book.

"Ugh," Harry said with a grimace. "I hate history," he stated as he stretched sniffling a yawn. "What time is it?" He asked Tom as he got out of the way too comfortable bed. "EHHH?" Harry exclaimed looking at his watch. "It's so late! Tom!" He yelled turning to the teen that was looking at him in amusement, "Why didn't you wake me up?!"

"You looked really peaceful…" Tom told him lightly, "Besides… you needed the rest."

"Mrrnngg…" Harry mumbled feeling cheated for some reason.

Tom laughed, getting up from the bed as well. He steered Harry towards the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" Tom murmured as he leaned down to peck him lightly on the lips; rendering Harry speechless.

Not trusting his ability to speak at the moment Harry merely nodded swiftly before high tailing it out of there.

* * *

><p>"What."<p>

_Thud._

"Am."

_Thud._

"I."

_Thud._

"Do-"

_Thud._

"-Ing?"

_Thud._

Harry ground out, ramming his head against the wall with every syllable. He felt a sense of deja vu. "This is insane," he mumbled to himself. "It's got to be another dream…" He mumbled out.

"Potter." An all too familiar voice sneered, "Still wondering about the corridors up to no good I see; just like your good-for-nothing father."

Harry grimaced. "Snape," he mumbled out as a greeting. He didn't even bother to confirm that it was indeed his bat resembling professor from his college days.

"Still disrespectful as always." Harry didn't even have to look to know that there was a sneer on the towering man's face. "What are you doing here, Potter?"

"I work here." Harry mumbled. He wasn't in the mood to deal with the biased man at the moment. 'When have I even been in the mood to deal with him?' Harry asked himself as he rolled his eyes. He finally turned toward his ex-professor.

As he had guessed, there was a sneer on the man's face.

"How have you been?"

"Uh… What?" Harry asked shocked.

Snape sneered.

"Umm… I'm fine… Thank you?" Harry replied dumbfounded.

If anything it seemed as if Snape's sneer deepened. He tightly nodded at the younger man before taking his leave.

Harry gawked after the man, his cloak billowing behind him dramatically.

* * *

><p>Tom sat atop his bed facing the door. The room was darker than normal and eerily quiet.<p>

"Dumbledore is getting weaker isn't he?" It seemed as if Tom was talking to himself but there was another man, blending into the shadows' of the room.

"…" The man didn't say anything, but Tom caught the small nod from him.

"Well," Tom smirked, "You know what to do."

Snape dropped down to one knee in front of Tom, "Yes my Lord," he replied quietly, respect and a drop of fear tainting his words.

* * *

><p>"Harry," Tom whispered, pulling the shocked man into his arms.<p>

"T-Tom?" Harry stuttered against the taller boy's chest. The teen had practically attacked him as soon as he had walked through the door.

"Mmm…" Tom spoke, "I've missed you."

Harry couldn't help the smile spreading across his face. This game, or whatever it was, that they were playing was dangerous he knew. For one he didn't even know if Tom was being honest or not, but he couldn't help but to go along with it.

"I… missed you too…" Harry spoke even quieter his face getting redder by the second.

"Get away from that demon Harry!" A voice spoke up strongly from the doorway.

Harry gasped, breaking away from Tom in shock. There Dumbledore was, standing fiercely at the entrance with Kingsley flanking him.

Tom frowned, "You acted a lot faster than I thought you would. Well, no matter, you can't stop me anyways." The teen shrugged seemly at ease, if only a bit annoyed. He grabbed Harry's wrist, "I can't bring you with me now…" He spoke staring deeply into Harry's eyes. "But I promise you, I'll come back for you." He whispered lowly so only Harry would hear him. He touched his lips lightly to Harry's fingers, "So be good for me 'til I come get you, okay?"

Harry nodded minutely, eyes wide with surprise.

And with a crack Tom disappeared from their sights.

* * *

><p>AN: OH HO HO. HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT?  
>The beginning was very fluffy right? Actually the whole chapter was kind of on the fluffy side…<br>eh. ANYWAYS. AHHH. IT'S GETTING EXCITING, NON? I AM EXCITED. YOU'LL SOON FIND OUT EVERYTHING CONCERNING THE CHARACTERS. Maybe not all in one chapter, but the story is unraveling itself~~~

ALSO. I REALLY WANT TO THANK EVERYONE THAT LEFT A COMMENT.  
>TT_TT omg you guys are too nice. I felt so inspired and loved and omg. I can't.<br>THANK YOU THANK YOU.

I'll answer this since a handful of people asked me...  
>TOM IS NOT A VAMPIRE. AND THAT'S ALL I'M TELLING YOU. U FU FU FU.<p>

SHORT I KNOW. BUT IT'S THIS OR NO UPDATE AT ALL LOL. SO... UNTIL NEXT TIME! CHEERS.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER EIGHT **OF **ASHES TO ASHES**

"SPEECH LOOKS LIKE THIS."  
>'THOUGHTS LOOK LIKE THIS.'<br>_FLASHBACKS AND DREAMS LOOK LIKE THIS_

'What just happened?' Harry thought as he followed behind Dumbledore. The old director was surprisingly calm and collected despite his earlier panic to get him away from Tom.

'Maybe because Tom's not here?' Harry's thoughts inputted helpfully. 'Also what was that all about? I mean, Tom… Tom disappeared…' He trailed off, thoughts returning to what had happened not even minutes ago.

_Tom grabbed Harry's wrist, "I can't bring you with me now…" He spoke staring deeply into Harry's eyes, "But I promise you, I'll come back for you." He whispered lowly so only Harry would hear him. He touched his lips lightly to Harry's fingers, "So be good for me 'til I come get you, okay?"_

_Harry nodded minutely, eyes wide with surprise._

_And with a crack Tom disappeared from their sights._

"I'm not dreaming again am I?" Harry spoke aloud unknowingly.

Dumbledore chuckled, pausing to look at his young employee, "No Harry, I'm afraid this isn't a dream…" And then he turned around, muttering something under his breath that sounded like, "But I wish it was…"

"Sir?" Harry asked questionably.

"I will explain to you once we have entered the security of my office. The walls have eyes, you know?" Dumbledore spoke with in a surprisingly light, almost teasing voice, as he waved his hand toward the many portraits that lined up the walls inside Hogwarts.

Harry eyed the different portraits shrewdly as if half expecting them to suddenly wink at him.

Dumbledore chuckled, noticing the look on Harry's face, "Do not fear Harry, they only move when no one is looking."

Harry raised an eyebrow, he knew Dumbledore had probably said that to help ease his nerves, but on contrary, it did quite the opposite.

* * *

><p>"Now, Harry… Tell me… What do you know about demons?" Dumbledore asked him as soon as they had settled into seats across from each other. He said it with such ease Harry had trouble thinking of a response to give the old director. It didn't help that Dumbledore had an expression of, what Harry could only describe as, hope written all over his face. So he settled for staring at Dumbldore with a single eyebrow raised in question as the silence stretched on. He had hoped the director would have gotten the hint and explained his question, or at least answered his question himself. But, Harry exhaled slowly he should've expected nothing less from the peculiar director.<p>

"…I'm afraid I don't really know much about demons…" Harry stared blankly; he really wasn't in the mood to be playing games at the moment.

Dumbledore didn't say anything but merely nodded his head as he rose from his seat. "Follow me Harry. I have something to show you," he said as he walked across his office towards a glass cabinet.

Harry said nothing as he rose from his seat to follow him across the room. Once he was close Dumbledore opened the cabinet and brought out a silver bowl and a small glass bottle filled with clear liquid. Harry stared questionably at the small bottle noticing that there was a label on it.

"This is a pensive," Dumbledore spoke in a calm voice, gesturing toward the silver bowl he had just placed on the low self in front of them. "And this," he continued bringing the small bottle into view, Harry could now read the label clearly and it read T. M. R. + Hogwarts 1945, "is a memory."

Harry threw the man an incredulous stare, "I'm sorry, did you just say that's a memory?"

"Yes." Dumbledore smiled, "This is why I'm showing you, because I fear with my words alone it would be hard to believe." He poured the liquid into the silver bowl and once he had emptied the contents he waved his hand around in a circular motion once.

Harry gaped as he saw the once clear liquid take on a pearly sheen as Dumbledore's hand waved above it.

"Now, come here, with me now – we peer into the memory," Dumbledore spoke as he leaned his head toward the bowl, "Come now my boy, there is nothing to fear." He gestured toward the bowl as he patiently waited for Harry to start moving.

After a short period of silence Harry finally started moving toward the bowl, although with difficulty. Was Dumbledore playing a joke with him? He thought to himself silently. But then again, if Dumbledore was playing a joke on him he didn't think the man would take it this far… Or rather, Harry doubted that he would even joke about something in this nature. So with a resigned sigh he stepped closer to the bowl so that he was touching arm to arm with Dumbledore. He glanced at him unsurely and Dumbledore gave him a reassuring smile as they leaned into the bowl.

Harry didn't think anything was going to happen. So he was beyond surprised when he felt the room spin around him. He closed his eyes tightly, flinching slightly when he felt everything around him shift.

"Professor," a distinctly familiar and clear voice called behind him.

"Tom?" Harry whispered as he turned around. He found himself to be outside the Great Hall and standing in front of Tom. "What's going on?" He asked Tom, taking note of the clothes the taller boy was wearing. He wrinkled his nose, "What're you wearing?" He eyed Tom's clothes warily. He was wearing a white dress shirt with a green tie, black slacks, and what Harry could only describe as a cloak on top. That itself didn't sound so strange, but the style of the clothes he was wearing seemed a bit outdated. And Harry had always pictured Tom to be on top of things, even fashion.

"He can't hear you Harry…" Dumbledore spoke up next to him shocking Harry. He had forgotten that Dumbledore was there. "This is a memory remember? We are here to observe."

As if to prove Dumbledore's words the Tom in front of him called out to an unknown person again, "Professor!" He scowled briefly before he took a step forward - walking right through a shell shocked Harry.

"He," Harry started dumbfounded, "He… He just walked… Through me! Right through me!"

Dumbledore chuckled, "Like I said, this is a memory…" He steered Harry towards the way Tom had gone off to. "This is a memory of mine from 1945, near Yule I believe."

Harry made a strangled noise at the back of his throat, "1945?" He repeated with difficulty. "That's more than fifty years in the past! But wasn't that Tom Riddle?"

"He looks the same as he does now, doesn't he?" Dumbledore spoke softly as if he was afraid of Harry's reaction. "Demons are scary creatures Harry."

"…" Harry said nothing as he followed Dumbledore to where Tom had disappeared to.

Tom spoke in a chipped tone once he was in view again, "Professor!"

This time his call was answered by a young looking Dumbledore, "Ah, Mister Riddle, what can I do for you this fine evening?"

Harry couldn't stop the widening of his eyes as he looked from one Dumbledore to the other. "You had… red hair…" Harry observed lamely. He heard Dumbledore chuckle as a sheepish grin spread across his face.

"Sir?" Harry injected as he looked at the memory unfold before him, "I'm sorry but… If that is Tom Riddle, and if that is indeed you, then what about all the records on Tom? Nothing, as far as I remember dated back to 1945…"

Dumbledore chuckled, "You see the facts you have are a little shuffled… At least time wise." Dumbledore stroked his beard, "Perhaps we should view this memory another time, when you are more familiar with what is going on. Let's return to my office."

* * *

><p>Harry stared expectantly at Dumbledore once they were settled into their seats again.<p>

"You know Harry, you're taking this a lot better than I thought you would," he observed.

"To be honest I think I'm still not catching up fully to this or I'm still in shock really…" He shrugged, "I'm kind of shocked that I'm not really freaking out at this point."

Dumbledore smiled, "Well it's better to stay calm in situations such as these."

He took a moment to stare into Harry's eyes, his ever twinkling eyes suddenly turning cold. "Now, I will try to explain everything to you…"

Harry nodded slowly.

"Everything on Tom Riddle's file is true, but the dates aren't. All those sent to _cure_ Tom where clergy men. Of course, they failed."

"…Cure Tom?" Harry asked cautiously. Surely he didn't really mean that they actually sent in clergy men to _cure_ him…

"Exorcise him, yes." Dumbledore confirmed without missing a beat.

Harry felt his eyebrows go up in surprise. "Why would you do that?" He asked flabbergasted.

"Because Harry," Dumbledore stressed, "He is a _demon_."

* * *

><p>Harry sighed deeply as he ran a troubled hand through his hair. He stared down at the old tome in his lap. It was bound in soft brown leather; its edges worn from years of exposure and the pages yellow from age. There was no writing on its spine or cover to indicate what kind of material was inside the book. In fact, once Harry opened the book he found it all to be hand written, and in a variant of old English he found to be a little difficult to read. Even thought there was no title on the book he knew what kind of information he would find in it.<p>

'A load of rubbish is what,' he scoffed quietly to himself.

He sat quietly a top his bed as he thought back to when Dumbledore had given him the book before dismissing him.

"_I see you're having a little difficulty believing me?" Dumbledore hummed. _

_Harry said nothing, he was still trying to process the fact that Dumbledore had tried to get Tom exorcised, and not just once either! And apparently, he was planning on Harry to be the next one to try and exorcise Tom! _

"_Your parents were part of this order, The Order of the Phoenix, and they were one of the few brave who stood up to fight against these demons."_

_Harry narrowed his eyes, "Yes, so you've said…" He flinched slightly, that came out more snidely then he had intended. He quickly tried to correct himself, "I'm sorry sir, it's just a lot to take in…" _

_Dumbledore waved his hand, "I completely understand my boy… I'm quite proud of you for being so calm." He paused briefly and started to rummage through his left drawer. "Ah ha!" Dumbledore said quietly before pulling out worn looking leather bound book. "I think this book will help you understand everything a little better. It's an… introduction to demons of sorts."_

"I'm dreaming all this up." He said with conviction before groaning in despair, "Or at least, I wish I was." He flopped onto his stomach, not bothering to get underneath his covers as he just laid there willing himself to go to sleep.

* * *

><p>"<em>Mmm…" Harry mumbled as he slowly woke from his stupor. He rubbed his hands against his face slowly willing his brain to fully wake up. But it was no use, he was just so drowsy. His limbs felt oddly heavy and it was hard for him to focus on anything. So he just laid there breathing evenly. That's when he felt the telltale pricks of being watched. He squinted, willing his body to move, but he found himself unable to do so. He remained still as the intruder climbed into his bed, swallowing thickly when the unknown man, and he was definitely a man, advanced onto him – straddling his motionless body. He shuddered, unexpectedly feeling icy cold hands trailing down his exposed torso in a teasing manner. He could feel the stranger hover above him, observing him silently. A breathy gasp escaped his lips when those hands suddenly took a firm grip of his hips. He managed to open his eyes, only to see a silhouette of the intruder's face as the lights above him created a shadow. <em>

_Although, in the back of his mind he was pretty sure of who it was. _

"_Harry…" He hears the intruder whisper and he whimpers a bit as he recognizes the voice. _

"_Tom…" He whimpers before he can stop himself. When he hears Tom's chuckle he's about to say something snappy but it dies on the tip of his tongue as he feels Tom's slender fingers playing with the waist band of this pants. _

With a gasp Harry woke up. He's shudders, there's a thin sheet of sweat across his chest and an uncomfortable ache in his pants. He reaches for his glasses on his bedside table and takes a peek at the clock. It reads 3:10AM. Feeling paranoid, he takes a look around his room. Everything is normal and he can't see a thing out of place. There's no one there and yet he can't help but feel a bit disappointed. He growls, squishing the bit of disappointment down. There is no way that he's disappointed that Tom isn't there. 'No. Way.' He mentally tells himself before making his way to the bathroom.

* * *

><p>The lights are still on but he can't bring himself to turn them off at this point so he just returns to his bed. He picks up a discarded t-shirt on the floor before taking a careful whiff of it. It doesn't smell so he shrugs and pulls it on before getting on his bed, this time he climbs underneath the covers.<p>

His clock flashes in red letters that it's 3:47 before he falls into sleep once more.

* * *

><p>"Wow Harry," Ron whistles, "You look like you've gone to hell and back, mate."<p>

Harry rolled his eyes; he knew Ron didn't mean it in an offending way, "Thanks Ron."

But it was true. He probably did look like he'd gone to hell and back. After he had woken up he had gone to sleep and had woken up to another dream an hour later and hadn't been able to go back to sleep afterwards.

_He let out a shuddering breath as icy cold hands stroked him in a languid pace.  
>"Mmm!" He keened as he grabbed onto Tom's slender forearms, "W-wait… ugh!" <em>

He let out a heavy breath as a fresh way of arousal flared through his veins.

"You alright?" Ron's voice filtered through his clouded mind.

Harry blinked owlishly at him for a moment before quickly responding that yes, he was alright.  
>He sighed, running a hand through his hair, yep - he was a mess alright.<p>

* * *

><p>AN: I recently made a tumblr for all my fanfiction related stuff. I usually don't reply back to reviews but if you want an answer/reply from me you can message me on my tumblr(link can be found on my profile). It will also have progress logs, chapter previews, stuff I'm working on…etc. Check it out if you want to!

I've also changed my name from strawberrymiilk to jacktogive.  
>encase some of you where confused...<p>

**Next chapter: I will get more into the book Dumbledore gave Harry and his parent's involvement in this fight against demons.**


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